“A hot-blooded tribe.”
“Did you find out where Timonen’s money came from?”
“That was exactly what made her so mad. Their parents died about five years ago and left a sizeable inheritance. Most of it went to Raimo, and their parents had justified their will by the fact that he had suffered so much in his life. The sister thought the money should have belonged to the one who would be able to enjoy it. That is, to her. What would a cripple do with money?”
Ulla was drawing doodles of daisies on a piece of notebook paper as she talked. “Occasionally the sister would burst into tears, but in the end I wasn’t sure if she was sad about her brother or the lost money.”
Koskinen thought he sensed the beginnings of a motive. “So now the assets shift to her.”
“There’s nothing left,” Ulla said, shaking her head. “Apparently Raimo had blown the whole inheritance. Last time they met, a couple of weeks ago, Raimo had asked his sister for a short-term loan.”
Koskinen scratched his nose in deep thought. Was there something going on here? When the money ran out, maybe the brother became expendable as well. But that didn’t sound very plausible. He looked at Ulla, searching for ideas.
“Could the sister be behind it?”
“Maybe. But it would’ve been smarter to do it five years ago. What would she gain now?”
“People have killed out of sheer bitterness before.”
“Yes, and out of love.”
“It would still be a good idea to check her alibi.”
“I already did. She said she was on a hiking trip in Lapland to see the fall colors. Her bus got back at midnight on Monday. I just called the tour operator and he confirmed that Rauni Timonen was with them.”
Koskinen looked at his wristwatch. “Car 341 had already seen the abandoned wheelchair before then.”
“Exactly,” Ulla said, nodding. “So much for that then.”
Koskinen considered whether it would be an appropriate moment to talk about Taru’s phone call and the bullying. Ulla still wasn’t her old self, but the worst acerbity seemed to have passed.
“I have something else I need to talk to you about.”
But that was as far as Koskinen got. Kaatio stepped into the room. He didn’t immediately start shooing Koskinen out of his chair, instead leaning two hands on the desk. He extended his left leg far behind him and started stretching.
“What a shitty day!”
“Well, what now?” Ulla looked at her officemate in astonishment. “Did the Lynxes lose again?”
“What do you mean AGAIN?” Kaatio switched his left leg for his right. “I just interviewed our two Fallen Angels. I’ve never heard so much bitching and moaning in all my life.”
“But you got something out of them?” Koskinen asked.
“Not much more than you did at the bar. Both of them hated Raimo like the bubonic plague.”
“Do they suspect anyone of the murder?”
“Both of them were convinced that the owner of the Cat’s Meow killed Raimo. His name is Urpiainen. But he has an alibi and no shortage of witnesses. He was in his bar from that morning until midnight. And Timonen’s body had already been found by then.”
“Of course.”
“I told Harjus and Ketterä that. Both of them encouraged us next to investigate the bar’s regulars. Apparently every other one had threatened to kill Timonen. Strange thing.”
“How so?”
“Well, I also got the impression that they were Timonen’s wingmen. Lapping up the beer he was buying night after night.”
“Did you interview Harjus and Ketterä separately?”
“Of course.”
“I was just wondering whether they had agreed in advance about what they were going to say.”
“They very well could have. They were both cocky, like they owned half of Europe.”
“Did you ask them where they were on Monday night?”
“The whole Bandidos threesome, Harjus, Ketterä, and Timonen, were drinking at Cat’s Meow from four onwards, and headed back to Wolf House at about 8:30.”
“By taxi?”
“No, in their wheelchairs. Harjus and Ketterä rolled themselves ahead while Timonen buzzed along in his electric wheelchair incoherently bellowing every imaginable blasphemy after them. The whole street heard it.”
“And later?”
“After that they each locked themselves in their rooms to sleep off the alcohol.”
“Any witnesses?”
“Harjus and Ketterä said that the whole building must’ve heard them come in. But it’s harder to prove that they were actually sleeping.”
“Did Harjus tell you why he attempted suicide nine years ago?”
“No,” Kaatio said, shaking his head. “And the database only mentions marital problems.”
“And that’s no reason to jump off a building.” Ulla snorted and looked at Koskinen. “Otherwise every other one of us would be sitting in a wheelchair.”
Koskinen paused to think about what Ulla had meant.
“Did the database have anything else?”
“It most certainly did. Tapani Harjus has a criminal record.”
“Aha!” Koskinen and Ulla both said at the same time.
“For what?”
“Growth hormone smuggling from Estonia a few years ago. He had hidden it in the frame of his wheelchair, but one of the tubes separated from its joint right when he was rolling through Customs, and left a nice trail of pills behind him like a string of pearls…”
“Bad luck,” Ulla said, sighing. “He must have been born under a bad sign.”
“Were they for his own use or for distribution?” Koskinen asked.
“For himself,” Kaatio replied. “He was trying to get into the Sydney Paralympics in weightlifting.”
Koskinen remembered his visit to the Cat’s Meow the night before. Steroid use would at least partially explain Harjus’ aggressive behavior. Could that have led to homicide? But how would Harjus have transported Timonen to Peltolammi and the wheelchair to Hervanta? That would have required an accomplice.
“What are you thinking?”
Koskinen lifted his head and saw Ulla staring at him from the other side of the desk. However, her eyes still lacked the gentle glimmer he was used to.
“Just thinking…” Koskinen had trouble collecting his thoughts. “…about all sorts of things.”
“Did you check the alibis of the two Angels who moved?” he managed to ask Kaatio.
“I was just about to. As soon as I can sit down in my chair.”
Koskinen looked around. “By the way, where is Eskola?”
Kaatio looked at Koskinen in surprise. “At the Cat’s Meow. You sent him there yourself.”
“Right.”
“Just so long as they don’t laugh him out of the bar,” Kaatio said, guffawing self-righteously. “Poor Eskola might say anything on his Shirley Temple buzz.”
Koskinen remembered Taru’s phone call. He jumped out of the chair and walked to the door. Without turning around, he said, “Antti knows how to do his job!”
He walked with quick steps to his office and thought about whether this was the first time ever he had defended Eskola. That was precisely his job as the boss, but he had never even bothered to think about it before. And now it might already be too late. He should have noticed ages ago how Eskola’s self-confidence had deteriorated. But now he saw it clearly—all he had to do was think back to any of their recent team meetings. Eskola was constantly being needled by the others. And Koskinen had never intervened; on the contrary, he had almost jeered right along with them.
He sat down behind his desk, feeling like completely the wrong man in completely the wrong place. A new stack of papers, reports, and memoranda had accumulated again. He couldn’t even get started. Half an hour passed and he was still on the abstract of the first paper, a summary of a legal policy seminar.
At ten past four, he dropped the report. Koskinen didn’t th
ink another second. He just pulled the receiver and dialed. He was surprised that he still remembered the library’s number by heart after two years.
“Hello, Emilia Koskinen speaking.”
It sounded strange. Of course he knew that Emilia hadn’t changed her last name, but it still clashed strangely in his ear. For a moment he couldn’t get a word out.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
“It’s me.”
Now silence fell on the other side of the line. It lasted a few seconds, until Emilia finally said, “Sakari?”
“Yeah.”
“This is a surprise...”
“I’m just calling to say hi. Nothing special.”
“I’m glad you called. How are you doing?”
“Just fine. What about you?”
“Thank you for asking. I’m also doing well.”
There was no way the exchange could have been more awkward. Insincere nonsense—who would be doing well when twenty years of marriage had fallen apart because of a few trivial mistakes and misunderstandings? Koskinen decided to drop the two-faced chattering and tell why he had called. In a few sentences he described Taru’s phone call and his own inability to address the problem.
Emilia listened without interrupting and then said, “First of all, Sakari, it’s lovely that you still trust me so much. I know you. You wouldn’t have called otherwise.”
Koskinen didn’t know what to say, and, after a moment, Emilia continued. “You called the right place.”
“You don’t mean that at the library...”
“No, no, not that,” Emilia said quickly. “We don’t even tease the janitor here. What I meant by that was that last winter I took a course at the continuing ed center on relationship dynamics in the contemporary workplace.”
“Oh.” Koskinen couldn’t help but smile. Their entire marriage Emilia had been a sucker for all sorts of seminars and classes. Apparently she hadn’t given up her hobby after the divorce.
“Have you had any changes at the office? Or is there something you all perceive as a threat?”
Koskinen told her about the outsourcing plan the Interior Ministry had floated. Although they knew that the Violent Crimes Unit wouldn’t be affected, still they were antsy from all the rumors that were circulating.
Emilia became animated. “That’s very typical of how problems like that start. When you feel that your own job is under threat, you often project those negative feelings onto the weakest link in the group. As if that will strengthen your own position in the group.”
“That could well be,” Koskinen said spiritlessly. “But Eskola has always been getting bullied, long before anyone said anything about outsourcing.”
“But the bullying has been getting worse recently, right?”
“Definitely.”
“As I remember, you once said that Eskola got married to that redheaded secretary of yours. What was her name, Satu?”
“No, Taru.”
“Could the boys be jealous about that?”
Koskinen omitted that he was the worst of them in that department. Kaatio had also been interested in Taru, and at times they had strutted around like male wood grouse trying to outdo each other in her eyes. Pekki must have at least secretly looked at the department’s single and attractive secretary too, although he had concealed it with his endless blubbering.
Emilia made a few other snap analyses of Koskinen’s workplace and then began dispensing advice: “You should get the group together and deal with the issue honestly and directly. You have to talk it out. There aren’t any easy tricks.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Koskinen said, knowing he’d never do it. “Thank you for the advice.”
“Don’t mention it,” Emilia replied and then thought for a moment. “How are you doing…I mean how are you really doing?”
“It’s just the same old circus. Nothing more than that. We have two cases open: a homicide and an assault.”
“You’re still the same workaholic,” Emilia said, sighing. “Doesn’t anyone else there know how to solve crimes… And Tomi said you’ve lost a lot of weight too. Be careful not to kill yourself working so much. A person has to have other things in his life besides work.”
Emilia’s sermon made Koskinen’s temper rise. He remembered what Pauliina had said about keeping his priorities straight and opened his mouth to say something spiteful. However, no words came out, and Emilia changed the subject.
“It must be over a year since we saw each other last. Was it at Tomi’s graduation?”
“I think so.”
“You should come visit sometime.”
“Visit?” Koskinen was taken off guard. Emilia was asking him to come visit. What did that mean? Another chance? He was already warming up to the idea when Emilia clarified.
“You used to be such a regular.”
“Oh, at the library?”
“Yes, what were you thinking? We have a few new Finnish mysteries, even one good one from a local author. I could hold them behind the counter for you and—”
Koskinen interrupted. “Thanks, but I doubt I’ll have much time for reading in the near future.”
“Of course not.” Emilia sighed again, more deeply than before. “Where does all your time go?”
“I’ve started running.”
“Yes, Tomi said that. You really couldn’t come up with anything else?”
Koskinen didn’t answer. He knew that no matter what pastime he mentioned, from nuclear physics to stock market investing, Emilia’s answer would have been the same: couldn’t you come up with anything else?
They were quiet for a long time.
“Thank you for calling, Sakari,” Emilia finally said. “It was lovely. And I really mean that. You were the most important person in my life for over half of it after all.”
The call ended, and Koskinen was left staring at the beeping handset. He set it down and rested his head in his hands. It was no use trying with the paperwork anymore; he knew he wouldn’t be able to get into it.
He decided to end his work day there. The others could pick up where he had left off. Pekki had probably already given instructions to Riipinen, who was doing the night shift. He was one of their most experienced and best investigators. And besides, the team would need to be rested and sharp-minded for tomorrow; they would be much more productive rested rather than just grinding away nonstop.
Koskinen realized that he was justifying his actions to himself. He stood up and started pulling his clothes off with angry movements. He didn’t need to explain himself to anyone—he was the lieutenant—the one who got to leave work whenever he felt like it.
He hadn’t even started putting on his cycling clothes when Milla waltzed into the office without knocking, with a thin stack of papers in her hand. She stared at him standing there in his underwear for three astonished seconds. Then she let out a shrill shriek and ran back into the hallway. The door slammed shut, though Koskinen could still hear the receding scream.
Koskinen dressed while wondering whether what had just happened could be classified as sexual harassment, and if so, in which direction. He pulled his windbreaker on, took his backpack out of the closet, and walked out.
He stopped at Milla’s door on the way out. “What did you want?”
Milla’s round face was still burning red. But Koskinen’s fear of being accused of harassment was groundless. Milla took the stack of paper from her desk and waved it in the air like a fan.
“These interview transcripts for the Nyyrikin Street case were done all wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“Wrong!” Milla proclaimed. “This Vaittinen guy is obviously guilty, since he’s beaten his wife before. And now we’re about to let him off scot-free.”
She threw the papers on the desk and pointed at the top one. “These came back from the prosecutor saying that they aren’t going to file charges.”
Koskinen put his backpack down on the floor and explained patiently: “Our job is j
ust to investigate what happened. We write up a report and send it to the prosecutor’s office. They decide if they will press charges or not, as with this Vaittinen character. The decisive factor in it was the statement given by the neighbor. He saw the wife fall on the stairs while intoxicated and injure herself.”
But this didn’t seem to take the wind out of Milla’s sails. “He got the neighbor to tell that to the police. Mark my words! If it were me, I’d give him at least five years!”
Koskinen glanced at his watch. “What are you still doing here? Your shift ended an hour ago.”
“There’s so much work that I haven’t had time to do it all. And I still have two of these case files left.”
Koskinen shook his head. “How about not wasting your time thinking about secondary things like what we were just talking about?”
Milla looked at Koskinen, abashed, and scooted her chair closer to the computer. “But no one should get to beat his wife.”
“You just do your work and don’t think too much. That’s not your job.”
Milla swiveled her chair around demonstratively, turning her back to Koskinen and putting her jaw in the air, obviously miffed. The antenna on her hat was aimed right between Koskinen’s eyes.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Koskinen said conciliatorily and picked up his backpack off the floor.
He didn’t want to hang around anymore wrangling with anyone else. He had enough to think about as it was. The phone conversations he had had with Taru and Emilia wouldn’t leave him in peace—they nagged at him the whole bicycle ride back to Hervanta to his apartment.
Over the course of the evening he just kept feeling worse, and he didn’t know who was causing it, Emilia or Taru. Ulla and her incomprehensible sulking loomed large as well. It was strange how the women he liked the most were the hardest to understand.
It was already dark when Koskinen headed out for a ten-mile jog. Running made him feel better immediately. He kept a fast pace, jogging the four miles along the walking path next to the highway toward Lake Sääksjärvi, and then turning back once he reached the bridge over the freeway and headed back along the same route. Toward the end he poured on more speed, surprised at how effortlessly he was running. He was sweating, his muscles had become supple as they warmed up, and he panted in time with his running: one long breath in—two quick out. His breathing sounded like a well-tuned steam engine—huuh hu-huu, huuh hu-huu.
Wolves and Angels Page 15
